


you've got (neo)mail

by artenon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2383619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima wondered how Kuroo could so shamelessly talk about Neopets where anyone could hear him, while at the same time having flashes of his own account with eight years of love and dedication poured into it, and he felt abruptly anxious and self-conscious that everyone in the gym was aware of his secret, which was that he, a high school student, still played Neopets. Religiously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you've got (neo)mail

**Author's Note:**

> me the entire time i was writing this fic: I CANT BELIEVE THIS I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS
> 
> HBD [TABRIZU](https://twitter.com/tabrizuu)!!
> 
> i started this last night with the intention of it being a short cracky thing based off a twitter convo we had. i have no idea how this happened.
> 
>  
> 
> [(also on tumblr)](http://artenon.tumblr.com/post/98816228085/youve-got-neo-mail-kurotsuki)

Tsukishima lingered around after practice, waiting for Kuroo to approach him, as he had for the past few nights, to ask if he was joining him for their regular late night practice. He wasn’t sure why Kuroo always asked, since Tsukishima never said no anymore, and he would probably get him to practice anyway even if he said no, but he’d come to expect it by this point.

Instead of going to him, however, Kuroo veered the other way and cornered Kenma by the wall of the gym. Tsukishima furrowed his brows, wondering what Kuroo was looking so serious for. Maybe he was trying to get Kenma to practice with them? But Kuroo seemed to think that was basically impossible.

Tsukishima wandered toward them, idly taking a drink from his water bottle. They couldn’t be talking about anything too personal in the open space of the gym, where anyone could overhear them, and—well, he couldn’t help being curious, okay?

“Come on, Kenma!” Kuroo was saying when he came within earshot of them.

“I haven’t been on in years,” Kenma said. “I doubt I even remember my password.”

“You can make a new account,” Kuroo said.

“Kuroo, I’m not making a new Neopets account,” Kenma said.

Neopets. They were talking about Neopets. Tsukishima stopped.

He wondered how Kuroo could so shamelessly talk about Neopets where anyone could hear him, while at the same time having flashes of his own account with eight years of love and dedication poured into it, and he felt abruptly anxious and self-conscious that everyone in the gym was aware of his secret, which was that he, a high school student, still played Neopets. Religiously.

But the others exited the gym without even glancing at him, and Kenma said, “I’m busy with the new Final Fantasy. Bother someone else,” and left.

Now the only ones left in the gym were the usual group—Bokuto and Akaashi, Hinata, Lev, and Kuroo.

Kuroo played Neopets. God. Tsukishima didn’t think he could look him in the eye again. He hoped he would outgrow Neopets by the time he was seventeen. That was only two years away, though. And that would also be a waste of all the time he’d invested into his account. Tsukishima was conflicted.

He hardly paid attention as they got into position for their regular three-versus-three game.

“Hey, Tsukki, you’re distracted,” Kuroo said.

“I told you not to call me that,” Tsukishima said, unable to come up with a better response.

“Is anything the matter?”

“Nope,” Tsukishima said with a grunt as he jumped to block a ball.

 

Kuroo’s perceptiveness was really annoying. It was what made him follow Tsukishima, who always left the gym first after their late night practices, instead of leaving him to his own devices like he usually did. It wasn’t even a big deal, but obviously Kuroo wouldn’t know that, noticing only that something was slightly off about Tsukishima.

“Why were you distracted?”

“It’s seriously not important,” Tsukishima said, trying to walk past Kuroo, but Kuroo caught his arm.

“You’ve been doing really well lately,” he said. “If anything’s wrong—”

“Oh, my God,” Tsukishima said.

They stood there for a moment, neither of them moving. Kuroo didn’t let go of his arm.

“Neopets,” Tsukishima gritted out.

“Excuse me?”

“You play Neopets?” Tsukishima said, feeling like he would much rather the floor open up so he could disappear forever. “I heard you.”

Kuroo’s face split into a broad grin. “Why, do you play?”

Tsukishima closed his eyes. “Maybe.”

“What’s your username? Can I add you?”

Why did he sound so excited? This was quite possibly the most embarrassing conversation Tsukishima had ever had.

He mumbled his username under his breath.

“What?” Kuroo asked.

“Tsukki with six ones after it,” Tsukishima mumbled, louder.

“Tsukki111111?”

“…Yes.”

“Great! I’ll neofriend you!” Kuroo said, let go of his arm, and ran off, waving.

Tsukishima had a lot to be proud of on his account (his Battledome pet and stats, his avatar count), but he also had a lot to be embarrassed of (the name of his Battledome pet—cooldino0927 the Fire Grarrl—and basically any remaining traces of his seven year old self who had made the account).

And he had just given Kuroo the embarrassing name to his embarrassing account.

“I regret everything,” Tsukishima said to no one.

 

Kuroo’s current avatar was the Petpetsitter game avatar, which kind of annoyed Tsukishima, because he hadn’t gotten that one yet. Looking at Kuroo’s userlookup, Tsukishima saw that he actually had a lot of game trophies, which made him even more annoyed. Game avatars were the hardest for Tsukishima to get.

But everything else about Kuroo’s account was plain—his userlookup, shop, pets... His avatar count wasn’t impressive and neither were his pets’ stats. Of his few Battledome plays, he had not won a majority.

Tsukishima felt a smug sense of superiority as he compared Kuroo’s account to his own.

When he finally navigated away from Kuroo’s userlookup, he saw that he had a neomail—from Kuroo, of course.

_Hey Tsukki!!_

Tsukishima replied: _Your account is lame._

 _That’s rude_ , read Kuroo’s reply. _Want to fight me in the Battledome?_

Tsukishima agreed, even though he didn’t see how this would be a challenge at all. He used cooldino0927, despite knowing that it would be complete overkill. Maybe Kuroo would at least surprise him with an awesome weapon.

Kuroo’s Yellow Kougra threw a snowball that did virtually nothing. Cooldino0927 defeated it in one hit.

 _Do you have a lot of neopoints?_ Kuroo neomailed him.

 _Enough_ , Tsukki replied. _I restock._

 _I could never get the hang of that_ , Kuroo said. _I just play games._

_That’s about the slowest way to earn np._

Kuroo sent him one of his petpages, which had a wishlist of paintbrushes and wearables.

 _My pets will look so cool one day_ , Kuroo said.

 _Not if you keep earning np at that rate_ , Tsukishima said.

_I am willing to accept donations._

Tsukishima looked at his Neopets bank account, at Kuroo’s wishlist, and sighed. He could afford everything—it would be a decent chunk of his savings, but he _could_ —but…

_You wouldn’t have the sense of satisfaction of saving up enough to buy the paintbrushes for yourself._

_Ugh. You’re right. Oh, well. By the way, which team do you play during the Altador Cup?_

Tsukishima could hardly look Kuroo in the eye for the rest of the training camp. Whenever Kuroo _did_ catch his eye, he would give him a knowing grin, and Tsukishima would quickly turn and walk the other way, paranoid again that somehow _everyone_ knew that he still went on that children’s site.

 

Tsukishima did end up buying stuff for Kuroo, somehow. He didn’t buy the paintbrushes on his wishlist, but he spoiled him with a lab map, codestones (until he realized that Kuroo was just selling them because he didn’t care about training his pets for the Battledome), and other random items.

He also maybe donated about a hundred thousand neopoints to the cause of getting Kuroo his dream pets, but if he didn’t mention it and Kuroo didn’t mention it (if they ignored the whole neomail chain that went along the lines of _put up a junk trade_ , _why?_ , _just do it_ , _IS THIS REAL LIFE THANK YOU SO MUCH_ ), then it was almost like he hadn’t done it.

Playing Neopets with Kuroo was surreal. Seeing his username in the active neofriends box on the sidebar was surreal.

The weirdest part, though, was probably the neomails, the mundane ones where Kuroo asked him about his day, and Tsukishima responded, and then Kuroo would tell him about his day in turn. They would chat about random stuff, finding common interests (besides volleyball), like movies, to talk about. Some days, they would just vent to each other.

It sort of felt like Kuroo wasn’t Kuroo. Well, he was still Kuroo, obviously, but it was like he wasn’t Kuroo, the captain of Nekoma who was a sort of mentor to Tsukishima Kuroo. Instead, he was like Kuroo, Tsukishima’s friend Kuroo. Tsukishima’s friend that he could have met online—because he’d always seemed to be better at connecting to people online than in person.

It was a weird sort of disconnect, the Kuroo Tsukishima now knew online versus the one he had known in person. He hadn’t even seen Kuroo in person since the training camp. But they got along, so Tsukishima tried not to question it too deeply.

 

He wasn’t forced to confront it until the next time they went to Tokyo for the weekend, when Kuroo and Tsukishima somehow ended up staying in the gym too late and just missed dinner in the cafeteria. Kuroo took him to dinner at a nearby restaurant.

It was weird to interact with Kuroo in person again after all their online interactions; Tsukishima wasn’t sure how to act around him.

There was nothing to catch up on, because they talked every day.

It was the disconnect again—he hadn’t seen Kuroo for weeks, and yet he knew Kuroo so much more intimately than the last time they had seen each other in person.

“If you scowl so much, your face will get stuck like that,” Kuroo said, and the tension diffused.

 

_Do you like me? Reply YES or NO._

Tsukishima stared at the neomail for about five minutes, then got his cell phone, trusting that Kuroo had stolen it at some point, some time over their many trips to Tokyo, and put his number in. He had.

“Hello?” Kuroo said when he picked up the phone.

“We’re not doing this,” Tsukishima said.

“Oh,” Kuroo said. “Well, you didn’t have to call me to reject me. I mean, you don’t have to explain yourself—a ‘no’ would have sufficed.”

Tsukishima sighed. “I didn’t call you to reject you.”

“Wait—what?”

“I meant ‘we’re not doing this’ as in we’re not doing confessions over neomail. For goodness’ sake, Kuroo,” Tsukishima said, “we’re not _twelve_.”

“I thought you might have appreciated the gesture,” Kuroo said. “Since you were sort of awkward Saturday night. Compared to how you are online, anyway.”

“Anyone would feel awkward on their first date,” Tsukishima said after a moment.

“That was our first date?”

“Are you sure the neomail wasn’t for your benefit?” he asked. “You’re being slow right now. Don’t make me have to repeat myself.”

“I guess I’m just having trouble believing this is actually happening,” Kuroo said. “I like you.”

“I’d gathered.”

“Act more flustered about it, would you? I’m starting to feel a little ridiculous here.”

“That’s because you are,” Tsukishima said flatly.

“Just to be clear, you _do_ like me, right?” Kuroo asked.

Tsukishima hesitated, biting his lip. Knowing it was one thing. Saying it was another.

“Okay, well, by your silence—” Kuroo started.

“Yes,” Tsukishima blurted, and was desperately glad that Kuroo couldn’t see his blush.

“Okay,” Kuroo said, sounding relieved. “Can we go on a date?”

“I guess. Where?”

“I was thinking the Tyrannian Concert Hall—”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Kidding!” Kuroo said. “Kidding. You guys are always coming to Tokyo, so how about I meet you in Miyagi? We can figure things out from there.”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima said. “That sounds good.”

“By the way, aren’t you going to ask why my number is in your phone?”

“No,” Tsukishima said.

“Okay,” Kuroo said. “That’s good, too.”

 

“Isn’t it funny how we got to know each other better because of Neopets?”

Tsukishima groaned, covering his face with his arm. “That is absolutely not something I want to hear after we’ve just had sex.”

Kuroo snickered. “It’s a great story, though.”

Tsukishima lowered his arm and looked at Kuroo, appalled. “We are _not_ telling that to people who ask how we started dating.”

Tsukishima might actually die if that happened. Die of the most crippling embarrassment possible.

Kuroo leaned over so he could kiss him, soft and sweet. “Fine. We’ll come up with something else for the fans,” he conceded. “But I still like the true story better.”

**Author's Note:**

> [laughs for 5000 years] _i dont know_


End file.
